9943 days, a few hours, and not so many minutes away from 9944

I was driving along today, on my way home, thinking about my son. Thinking about Lou and the Horsey Halloween Party we went to. Thinking about how much joy they bring me. Wondering why the joy they bring me somehow came back to Joshua. It's some very odd and misguided sense of guilt that keeps me a little on edge about admitting how happy I am around them.

He once told me, not too terribly long ago, in a rather put out manner, that if I didn't have "the horses" maybe I "could" afford to help him more. By not too long ago, I do mean within the last year. He was 27 in August of this year. He is also currently residing in another state. Yet, he really does believe that my life ought to center around him, still. Not just participate in, center around. Nine thousand, nine hundred, and forty three days later; center around him.

It doesn't. I feel guilty, how dare I not focus on whatever dilemma has befallen him. How dare I enjoy the life I have built. How dare I have joy when he is in obvious, unavoidable pain. Make no mistake those are statements, not questions.

Tonight I realized I could bask in the joy that comes with thinking about Mr. Lou and I at Diamond Hill this weekend. I could, if I let myself. And so nine thousand, nine hundred, and forty three days later I'm gonna let myself be a participant in Joshua's life, an important one, still a participant, and bring you part of the joy that is Lou...

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Big Lou

Big Lou, you have to say it with your head tilted down toward your chin and with a deeper voice than is likely to come out of you, whomever you may be! I didn't notice that I actually did the tilting of the head when I addressed him as "Big Lou" until tonight when I was thinking about writing a bit about him.

He's not always Big Lou, sometimes he is Mr. Lou, sometimes he is Hey Gorgeous, and sometimes he is Seriously Lou?. Nearly always, he is perfect. He's got personality from here until next Tuesday, which really means he is prone to causing trouble. In the same respect, he is as mellow as sipping a Vanilla Latte in a springtime pasture on a Sunday afternoon.

Under saddle he does exactly what you ask, even when presented with someone who doesn't always ask perfectly. I know he'd do his level best to catch me if I fell, which I have. Some call it an emergency dismount, I call it being used to falling :-).

I've rarely felt as safe as I do when I am atop Lou. Still, I'm never bored. It's not a comfortable, old shoe kind of safe. It's a 'let's do this, I believe in you" kind of safe.

I got lucky with Lou. He just flat out makes me smile, tilt my head down, and lower my voice to that of a fifty year old cowboy and ask "Ok Big Lou, ya wanna go for a ride". I don't even care how silly it must look and so far as I can tell, neither does he!

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Raw and unfiltered

Nice title don't you think? 

It's not near as exciting as it sounds. One day not so long ago I came home to find that one of the boys had hurt himself. He had a nasty gash on his shoulder. That first day it looked like he got kicked and the skin had been pulled back. Nasty, yes. Treatable, absolutely. 

The next day he had rolled and seemingly torn off the piece of skin that led me to believe that it was a kick that had simply torn back the skin in the process. When I cleaned him up that night I saw that it was more along the lines of a puncture wound and once the skin that was trying to cover it had left, well it was roughly the size of a half dollar. It was swollen. There was heat.

I cleaned it out, put medicine on it (Nu-Stock which is great stuff), and tried to wrap it. He ended up with a huge ass home-made band-aid secured with duct tape. You can not wrap an almost to the shoulder, but not quite, wound with much success, at least I couldn't. 

The bandages didn't work very well. Inevitably they'd come off during the day. I have decided they came off when he rolled. Off comes the bandage, in comes the dirt. The dirt meets the medicine which covers the wound and all the days work is lost. 

This went on for about four days before I remembered the honey. A friend of mine had used it with a lot of success. Lou's wound was one day away from the vet. I could not keep it clean and or dry. The medicine I was using, as great as it is, was useless when it was mixed with dirt. I pressed my nose to the cut and smelled, it wasn't good. Yes I smelled it. It was what made me remember the honey. 

I knew we were bordering on something that could go south. I went to Pike Place Market a day after that and spoke to every honey vendor there. I finally stumbled on a woman whom did not look at me as if I were crazy when I explained that the taste did not matter because the intent was to slather my horse's shoulder with it as a salve. Her son had actually used honey to heal a wound he had across the bridge of his nose, she understood; her son did not scar by the way. She had a variety of honeys however recommended a Wild Thistle honey due to it's thickness. 

Honestly, I was desperate; Lou's wound had me scared. An infection could lead to really bad things. I didn't really think the honey idea would work, it seemed too simple to me. I'd probably have never tried it had I not been contemplating a 60.00 farm call and god knows how much to follow. 

I bought a 3oz jar for 5.50. It is worth noting that I still have some left.

I put the honey on him Sunday night after washing out his wound. Monday morning it looked as if the honey had acted as a drawing agent, pulling out the yuck that was still in there. His leg was wet in streaks. It wasn't like the honey just dripped down, it was as if the honey pulled out bad stuff (not puss or anything gross like that) and released it underneath this seal around the actual wound. The wound itself was still covered, the heat had left, and the swelling had gone down.  

The wound was washed and the honey reapplied each day for two days.

I did not touch the wound Tuesday or Wednesday. I checked on it but I did not wash it out and reapply the honey until Thursday.

It was dirty however the honey had created a barrier of sorts for the actual wound. The outside of the area was dirty, the wound was clean and protected.

My friend and I looked at his wound last night. It was, or better yet is, not the least bit swollen, has not even the touch of heat, is barely the size of half a dime, with virtually no hair loss

I smelled him tonight, just for good measure. I stuck my face right there on his big giant shoulder and breathed in deep and what I smelled was beautiful, healthy, raw, and unfiltered!

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Removing should from your vocabulary

The other day, yesterday actually, I explained my theory on the word should to a good friend of mine. She was stating that she should not feel this or that about a situation; the circumstances don't really matter in this case. I listened for a bit then remembered my mom telling me not too many months ago (perhaps a year) that should implied blame and perhaps replacing that word with a kinder word, could for example, might just change my outlook on whatever situation I thought I was, or had, handled incorrectly. I shared it with my friend last night and was reminded of it again today.

I.E. I should have (insert action) vs. I could have (insert action). 

Should leaves very little room for growth; with should you are concentrating on what went south as opposed to how come it went south and exploring the options that may have resulted in a better outcome.
It's also incredibly hard to stop saying should.

Today a very dear friend, arguably my closest friend, had to make a decision that, right or wrong, breaks a person's heart. I wondered a million times throughout the day if she was alright and prayed she wasn't "shoulding" herself to death. It's strangely easy to do. I suppose it makes sense, if you accept blame you can hang on to the belief that you can, or could have, fix(ed) whatever the problem may have been if only you were better - in whatever way you've decided you are lacking! 

Could - for example - leaves it (whatever it may be) open for exploration, for thinking, for learning, for possibility; none of which you can obtain if you are busying yourself with blame.

Today I came home and Rev didn't feel good. I panicked of course, the very thought of any of them being hurt or sick or uncomfortable finds my heart beating like crazy and my mind racing. That being said when push comes to shove I can handle an emergency; once I know something is wrong, once I know I can't afford to freak out and cry, I don't. Of course the initial panic sucks :-) 

In any case he was not feeling good, he is ok. He doesn't feel great but he is in no danger. 

It's been crazy dry here and as a result I have a ton of sand, not dirt, sand. They eat lunch outside (everything else is in their stalls) and I was becoming worried that sand colic could be a problem. Last Saturday I put them all on sand clear (or a version thereof). Rev is mighty sensitive and will benefit from ProBios I think however that is more of a side note. I do believe the poor baby has a tummy ache. His temperature is normal, he has pooped, he did me the courtesy of multiple farts (one of which occurred while taking his temperature, effectively in my hand), he has plenty of gut sounds, he is eating. He is also uncomfortable, but not critical by any stretch. Much to his dismay, he is also being monitored and the vet will be called at any repeated signs of upset.

I did not, through this, say to myself "you should have..." "it's your fault cause of the sand..." etc... etc...
I thought, from now we will all be on Psyllium because there is sand and it's not worth the risk.I thought, you are learning from this so that you can prevent any upset in the future.

Yes, I "could" have started them on a Psyllium regiment long ago and possibly prevented any upset for Rev. I  "could" have kept him on ProBios just because it "seemed" to have positive (read no ill) effects. Both of those "could" have prevented his tummy ache this evening, it also might not have. That does not make the Psyllium regiment or ProBios anything less than a good idea. Using "could" however not only took the blame away from something I (in reality) have little control over, it also opened up the thought process enough to let learning happen.

I suppose one can't complain too loudly about that.

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It's like a win-win-win.

Simply put, they are my babies. I'd lay across rail road tracks for each one of them. I'd not even so much as hesitate.

Recently I secured a position that will let me take care of my babies with one less worry. It's been a worrisome couple years; not that they knew, pretty sure I am the only one that ended up with an ulcer.

It's been a nice few hours, letting it all sink in. A bit of freedom, an air of relief, and if I were inclined to be honest, I'd say I was rather proud of myself.

Securing the position isn't really all that impressive; not securing the position, based on my qualifications, would have been devastating. Ok, so maybe not devastating but a blow to the old ego. I digress, my apologies.

What is impressive however, is that this crazy last twenty some odd months has changed me in ways what will actually let me do the job I have loved, since the first problem was presented to me, without motive for more. I honestly just want to do a good job, earn a decent income as a result, learn and grow as much as I can while doing it, and take care of my family.

The family I take care of these days consists of three wonderful horses, two spectacular dogs, a few chickens (who tend to scare me), and a beautiful cat. Taking care of them is paramount to me, there is simply no other word. Over the last twenty some odd months I've struggled with decisions surrounding their care, surrounding what was best for them, for us as a family, for me as a person, and let me tell you, there were a lot of scary 'oh my god' moments through those decisions. There was work and there was more work. There were adjustments and sacrifices. There have been balancing acts and sighs of relief. Bottom line always came down to what was best for them and I found, like most mothers, I'd do anything to make sure that happened. I always knew it, in my defense, it had just been a long time since I had to work so hard and so many angles to do it.  And my goodness the lessons in humility and strength alike were, let's just say, frequent.

None of these worries will go away and I pray that the lessons still come as frequently, goodness knows I've got an awful lot left to learn. They probably won't even lessen much. I'll still worry about hay quality, dentist appointments that need to be made, shoes that need to be had, diet issues, blankets, stall floors, riding frequency, and every other possible problem you can imagine. I will, with any luck, wake each day with a lesson to be had. With even more luck, I'll recognize the possibility enough to accept the lesson! I will however do it all with a little financial relief and bonus, it is doing something I love to do. It's like the best win-win I've had in the last few years.

When you take into consideration, that I'll not lose me in doing a great job, it's like a win-win-win.

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Somewhere between acceptance and gratitude or, varying degrees of doubt.

Today I am pissed at my email, in a shitty mood because it has not produced the email I am waiting for, and a little disappointed in my ability to "keep the faith" and/or feel grateful. 

For a solid six days I have been religiously repeating:

1. The strength it took to look honestly at that time period was hard earned; hold onto that and stay proud of that.

2. If nothing, save a lesson, comes of this, the lesson is valuable enough.

3. The outcome will not define you, does not define you; the outcome is not a reflection of you as a person, it is simply the decision of someone other than yourself. 

4. Let it go, see number 3 and let it go.

It's been a long six days. I believe, with all my heart, that all three of those are completely true statements. I really do wish I could stop repeating them. With every day that passes without an answer the voice of reason has to battle the voice of insecurity. She's got a pretty strong voice, resilient shit that she is. She battles everything above with her own version of the truth and lord is she negative!

I worked today and all went well. Sue and I worked together, we do well together. The ponies were all a dream save Kobe whom has taken to trying to eat the lead rope and Wynston whom thinks smelling the top of my head and dripping a little horsey goo in my hair is great fun. It was a good day, all in all. 

I drove in the drive and Mr. Leo was right there to greet me. Jack right behind him, wagging his little tail so fast he looks like half a helicopter! The boys were all accounted for and looked good too. I didn't get attacked by the crazy rooster. Weather was nice and I planned on riding Brody for a bit this evening.

Why then am I talking myself out of a negative mind set?

It's simple, I am letting this other person's decision rule my days, my nights, and even my dreams. I remarked earlier today that if I could simply remember all I dreamt when my mind was working overtime I'd give Stephen King a run for his money! My imagination is great fun play in, it's not great fun to get lost in! I believe "torture chamber" is what I used to describe it today. Every person whom has made an impression on me has appeared lately; my high school boyfriend popped over to let me know that the cliff I was jumping over was probably gonna suck, my mom and I were on a train that went to what felt like a desolate version of our world after deciding that we'd end up dying alone and together (literally), my brother popped in disguised as my father to remind me that although I thought pretty highly of my intellect...I wake feeling confused and as if I had just run a marathon. 

Why?

Because I am letting someone else's decision rule my days. I am forgetting all that brought me here. I am forgetting that the answer I am afraid of won't kill me; it may not please me however that's all it will do. I've been displeased before, it's never resulted in the end of the world :-)

Right? 

I'm gonna make sure to ask Brody, he's usually spot on when I am stuck between varying degrees of doubt.

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And they call me Queen of the Walk

It's no secret that I don't like to go fast. Facts are facts; part of me is a big chicken. I say things like... I need to work on my posting, I haven't really done much lately, I'm sure I have forgotten the right way, I look like an idiot, I should take lessons again, then maybe we'll talk about cantering and all this "you have to go fast business".

Truth is the key is feeling, not to mention a lot of trusting that enough to let go of the perfectionist, intellectual freak that says thing like "you look silly cause you aren't perfect". I look pretty hot at the walk. I love trotting about with Rev and Lou, so long as very few are around to see me go beyond the walk. Did I mention, I look great at the walk. It's the letting go that tends to keep me at the walk, the trusting myself part, that keeps me at the walk.

Rev and Lou have been a new experience for me, both of them have found me wanting to ride, for different reasons all together, however with both of them I get this "oh boy we're gonna ride" feeling that I haven't had in a long time. It's fun again with them; it's a bonus that it's fun for different reasons with each of them.

We rode yesterday; Rev and I in the arena, then around the "trail" three times. We went a couple different ways up to the top of the pasture, jogging up the hill this way and that. We played at the top of the pasture where I let him go just a touch faster than we've gone before then heading back down. He never goes faster than I am ready for and always seems very aware of what that means. It's quite amazing considering my speedometer changes each time we ride! He was great. Tomorrow we're gonna venture off the property, head up the street (or down I haven't decided). I have such a great time with him, we were plowing through the bushes (let's pretend they were thick, huge, climbing everywhere with vines, kind of bushes), climbing hills (slopes), laughing and talking the whole time. There was a lot of "oh you're such a good boy, let's hop over the log, oh look at you go, etc..." We had a blast.

Lou and I stayed in the arena. I suspect that if Lou could he'd pick me up before I even thought to fall, it's incredibly hard to feel anything but taken care of when riding with Lou. I never understood the desire for a horse so huge that you couldn't see me if I was standing behind him, smack dab in the middle of his barrel (yes, yes, you'd see my feet). God knows I'd be able to hide from the CIA if I decided to stand behind his rump! He's 16.3 and build like a tank. Riding with him is just fun for me. We actually cantered. I've never cantered. I don't, as a general rule, canter. Lou and I cantered, it was great fun. It was incredible fun really. I keep walking by him and saying "How's my little superstar?" :-)

Who knew, Queen of the Walk, would one day meet, love, and be lucky enough to know not one, but two, boys that let her go faster and faster each day :-)

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It's green cause we all agree that it's green.

My mom believes that we have collectively created our (general) reality. Trees for example, are green because we all agree they are green and therefore it becomes reality for us all. It's perception. It's choice. It's even a bit of compromise.

Reality is a funny thing, it can be different for us all. The reality of my childhood is not the same as my brother's reality and we grew up together. 

If it's really choice then we can choose a better reality even in the face of what is normally perceived to be a negative reality. It's all about perception. You really can change your life by changing your way of thinking. That being said, it's hard shit to actually do. 

When I started this blog, I thought I was pretty hot shit. I was very impressed with myself and certainly not afraid to wield what I believed to be my superiority. I was important don't ya know. I seriously shake my head at that thought today, mostly because my definition of important was so very different back then. I still think I am pretty hot shit, I am still pretty impressed with myself, and I certainly don't doubt my importance or the benefits I bring to those around me. The definition of all that today was allowed to grow somewhere in the experiences over the last two years especially (it's been less however that is a nice round number), it does not lie in the title that resides under my name which is where it was when I started this blog.  

It's actually been really difficult, these last couple of years. I try to write on the lessons and the insights, my goodness have there been a plethora (love that word), and not the difficulty level. It has however been difficult, I can't recall a time period where "journey" fit any better.

I started out confused, angry, and arrogant. Today I am more aware, grateful, humbled in a way that does not equate beating myself up, and proud of who I see in the mirror everyday. I had to look at why I was confused, angry, and arrogant a couple years back; I didn't much care for the view. I have always been smart enough to know you can not change what you can not control. I have not always been smart enough to know that very little is actually in my control, unless you count choice. I didn't.

It's perception. It is a choice to live each day positively and not negatively. It's a choice not to judge. It's a choice to examine and decide finding the positive is the only sane thing to do. It's a choice to stand by yourself; not alone but to stand "by" yourself in the very manner you'd stand by your friend. It's also a hard choice. It's also an active choice. It's a literal exercise everyday and along the way you will likely discover things that you never would have admitted, even alone with only the company of your horse.

You have to think, where is my lesson? How did I play into this? How can I make this a lesson and not a punishment? That's a big one right there. Admitting my hand in yuckiness used to mean on some level I failed, I suck, oh my god the world is going to finally know I am a sham. Admitting my hand in whatever the yuckiness is today means, ok so why did you ...? Sometimes that answer is simply "cause Carol you are human", sometimes that has to be enough. Once there I usually get a hint of the lesson. In each lesson is a piece of the new reality I have chosen.

That's all fantastic, I'm crazy pleased by all of it. Pretty amazed I made it through to this point truth be told. However, holy moly what a pain in the ass it is to look for the positive in a world turned upside down. What a bitch it is to realize you had a direct hand in turning part of that world upside down. How amazingly hard it is to forgive yourself for the same. How incredibly tiring it is to let yourself feel it all the way through without using it as some crazy weapon :-) How sad and uplifting it has been to look at it and let it go.

Today was the first time I had to really put this whole practice of looking at life differently, seeing the beauty, being at peace with me (good, bad, or indifferent), actively looking for a positive regardless of outcome, today was the first day I really really put it to work. Today I had to take all of what I have been allowed to learn over the last two years and apply it. It was intense. It still has me a bit shaken up, it's easy to think it all, it's easy to apply it all when you are applying it to a life filled with ponies and puppies; it's easy to make sense of it all when you've surrounded yourself with the best love there is. It's hard to do all that when you are walking into strangely familiar territory as a completely different person.

We made it through though, she says because I made it through sounds entirely too real and as mentioned, I can change my reality. Right now that reality needs "we" more then it need "I" so we're going with "we"!

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Oh Patch, how I wish we could have some chips and just chat.

Patch loved chips, he'd also stand right next to you and wait patiently for his next chip. For that matter he'd stand next to you and wait for any treat you might possibly have. That being said, he'd stand right next to you, treat or not, and listen to you ramble for as long as you needed.

I will now stop with the although, thereby, and that being said, and for that matter, crap.

You could talk to Patch, you could hang out with Patch. I spent many hours telling Patch things that Patch likely cared nothing about. We discussed everything from the price of bedding to the horrors that came from trying to re-figure life out at forty something.

It'd be nice to chat with him tonight, he's been heavy on my mind. Mostly because there is so much I'd like to tell him. The Princess found a new home. That would have been good news to Patch. Texas went home and Amber was sold. I met Brody, who has always reminded me of you (in spirit), the day after you died. The farm has changed, I have changed. There have been horses, and there is a special one for me again in Rev, but none of them are you. None of them stand in my door and wait, for however long, for the treat they know they will get.

I think of you every day, most days more than once. I don't tear up all the time anymore, mostly I smile and sorta cock my head like Leo when you cross my mind. I wonder, what people think when they see it? I'd bet my last bale of hay that they have no idea that a beautiful soul just ran across my memory flashing the cutest spotted ass the world has ever seen!

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Just a horse, dog, cat, chicken, mouse, spider, or slug

I got to hang out with Bill today. Bill is one of my very favorite people. Bill is my dear friend's little boy; Bill is two. Bill calls me Auntie Cars not because he can't say Carol and not because his mommy is my "real" sister. I'm Auntie cause that's what'd I'd be if the world made the connections I saw fit (helps that his mommy agrees) and Cars because, well because, I have cars. I don't have real live, grown ups can drive, cars laying about the yard. I do however have the cars that Bill likes. There are areas of the house that look a little like a Match Box wrecking yard, Bill loves it. As a result of these two things I am Auntie Cars. 

There is such beauty in a person whom has not been commercialized. I can watch Bill for hours and never get bored with his discoveries. What is especially lovely about Bill is that he still believes "good" should simply be a fact of life. 

Today Perris was getting her feet done so while that was going on Bill and I hung out. We found a slug crawling on the grass. We were actually headed to his store, a little play house, where he sells water (not really). We got distracted picking flowers for mommy when we (Bill) decided he needed the cart for the flowers. We had two dandelions, not a heavy load! The cart he wanted was in the longer grass so off we went. I saw the slug, it was flippin' huge and black. I have, honest to goodness, never seen a black slug. I googled it, they are kinda gross.

In any case I see this slug and point it out to Bill. We both knelt there, our collective butts resting on our feet, and discussed the slug. Bill said "What's that". I said "A slug, can you say slug". Bill says "Auntie bug". 

It was close enough for us to go from there to Bill's version of what it was doing and Auntie Cars explaining that it was climbing and that we didn't want to touch or hurt it. Bill agreed and we sat there watching the slug, repeating the same questions:

1. What's that?

2. Where go?

I would say we spent five minutes on the slug. 

It never occurred to me to kill the slug, it really never occurred to Bill to so much as disturb the slug. That belief that there is no reason to hurt another being just because you don't understand it is lost on "us" anymore. 

If you really think about it, fear is almost always the basis of anger. Not being able to understand something scares "us", I think it is safe to say it scares the shit out of "us". "We" think we are pretty damned smart. Perhaps relate, or even empathize, is a better word then understand in this case, hard to say. 

We didn't kill the slug, or touch the slug, we studied the slug and then left the slug to do whatever it was the slug was headed to do. 

Sure it was just a slug, it could have been up to no good in the world of slugs, it could have been headed home to his family of slugs; we'll never know cause we left him alone. 

It is just simple respect I suppose. Leo isn't just a dog, sure he's a dog but "just a dog" makes him sound less than deserving of humane treatment and simple respect. Just a dog leads one to believe that hurting him wouldn't matter as much as hurting a person. 

I was going to go through the list of animals in the title however I do believe my point is made already. 

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I sure do love my boy

I think of Rev and I just smile. It's really that simple, it's really that amazing.

Rascal Flats covers a song by Hunter Hayes, one of the lyrics is:

"I don't know how you do what you do

'Cause everything that don't make sense about me 

Makes sense when I'm with you"

The song is a love song; the song is about a man declaring his love to a woman. The song is not about how wonderful it feels to wrap my arms around my horse's neck and feel him move closer. 

My horse; how wonderful that feels to say out loud. Rev is as much mine as I am his. It really is that simple, it really is that amazing.

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Rev AKA "Sweetness"

When I walk up to Rev it goes a little like this:

"Hi Sweetness, how is my boy?" Typically there is a discussion about my day, a few questions about his, a reminder that he is super handsome and that I love him, a kiss planed on his big old butt while I look him over for oddities and remind him that the Princess moved so he won't get bit anymore.

I have had the honor of knowing some of the gentlest of horses. Brody, Texas, Patch, and P all come to mind instantly. Some of the gentlest souls have come to me in the form of animals, more than a few of those animals have been horses. Much like people, they were all gentle in there own way, for their own reasons, because of (or as a result of) their individual circumstances. They each taught me something different. They each showed me a new reason to look at the world with kinder eyes.

Rev, AKA Sweetness, is definitely top ten sweetest souls ever. That guy hasn't got a mean bone in his body.  I tend to think of Rev and get lost in day dreams. Nothing terribly specific, it's just when I think of him I sort of drift off and forget that I was trying to write. It's like that dreamy feeling you get when you imagine you're on a beach, with white sand at your feet, and a gorgeous net covered king sized feather bed waiting for you to retire. I get dreamy when I think of him.

I've been dreamy over other horses. I mentioned them above. It's slightly different with Rev, I get dreamy and we have fun together!

I also get crazy selfish with Rev. I honest to goodness don't like anyone else touching him. I actually discouraged my best friend; I've never done that. I think she'd have fun with him, no doubt. I don't however wanna share. The really cool thing is, Rev doesn't really wanna share either.

The other day, a friend was over and she had her friend with her. They had both met Rev and subsequently fell in love with him. There was a lot of "WHO IS THAT?" when they met him. In any case, she asked if she could ride Rev. This posed a problem for me, a couple problems. The first, and most obvious, is that I don't like other people touching Rev. The second was that I didn't like saying no when there was no real reason to do so.

The compromise we (I) decided on was that I'd ride Rev for a bit to "see how he was feeling" and then she could hop on for a few minutes if she wanted to.

Rev was "feeling" fine. Rev let me climb on him with no bareback pad. Rev let me put the side pull on (that I had brilliantly put back together incorrectly) and ride about not knowing how badly I had put it back together. Rev didn't care that I did it wrong and understood when I made him stand there while I fixed what I had screwed up. Rev didn't even care when we switched over to a regular bit and readjusted the stirrups for the fifth time. Rev is used to the fact that his mommy does things ass backward and he really doesn't care.

I eventually stopped torturing my gorgeous boy and let the other lady ride. Rev behaved like a complete gentleman however he did walk her in a circle and stop right in front of me about three times as if to say "Ok I did it can we ummm stop this nonsense?".

I took that to mean that Rev, AKA Sweetness, didn't like sharing any more than his mommy did. we did try. I think we get at least a "B" for effort there.

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Tolerance, picking battles, & Universal Strings

Now that, my friends, is a clever title!


I'm a very tolerant person. I am pretty sure that my tolerance is a result of having to learn, early on, how to pick my battles.


Hmmmm, that's kind of bullshit.


I am a very tolerant person. I have learned to pick my battles. That isn't bullshit. 


I did not do this early on. I'm not sure that's why I am a tolerant person. That part could be considered bullshit, depending your perspective. 


Joshua taught me how to pick my battles. Without Joshua, I'd probably still be sitting here today wondering why the rest of the world wasn't operating as I saw fit. He surely doesn't know this and he doesn't read my blog so he likely never will. That's not a bad thing, he doesn't need to know :-)


Being tolerant though, that might just be a defense mechanism gone good, if you will. I don't like to fight. I don't like to be in conflict. When I am in conflict I can't write, I can't eat, I usually don't sleep very well, all in all I don't do it well.

There was a ton of conflict when I was growing up. What that conflict was matters little anymore; that the time period was fraught with conflict, well that part matters a great deal.

It created a person that can deal with the conflict of others with ease but shakes in her boots at the thought of conflict touching her. 

We'll take something as simple as a hot spot on a dog. If Buster (a dog I know) got a hot spot and Buster's mom called me I'd be able to assure her that 1. she is not responsible for the hot spot 2. it happens 3. it's easy to treat 4. he will live 5. repeat numbers one (1) through four (4). 

Leo (my dog) gets a hot spot and inside I freak out. I'm a horrible dog mom, I know he is allergic, I should have been more diligent, he may never recover, he could very well chew off his tail and then who's fault would that be! I apply the necessary medicines, give the necessary baths, etc... etc... apologizing the whole time. 

Funny little fact, not many notice this fantastic freak out. 

But it happens, it just usually happens inside. Wow, more bullshit. It always happens inside or the above sentence wouldn't really make much sense would it?

It keeps me honest, if only with myself.

I think it's why I am so very attracted to the likes of Katie, Patch, Rev, and let us not forget P or Brody. When I met Katie she had trust issues. P, trust issues. Rev, too gentle a soul for his own good. Brody, he was simply lost. Patch, much like Rev, he was too gentle a soul for his own good. Patch would walk away before taking the food someone else took from him. Rev, same thing. 

I can relate. I do relate. 

I've always had tremendous respect for Katie and P because they stood by their mistrust (if you will) until proven otherwise. Sounds strange, I am sure, however I understand a girl who keeps herself protected until she has proof she doesn't have to. 

The boys... 

It's odd, with Patch I only remember how he looked before he left. I can hardly picture how it was when he first came home. I know he wasn't in great shape but it seems so far away. No matter how I try I don't remember Patch skinny and in need of healing. I remember him proud and puffed up with his blanketed butt shining in the sun, I remember him standing there looking at me like I was a crazy person for placing his lunch near Tex who was bound to steal it. I remember him cuddling (quite literally) up to my brother (who is afraid of "those animals"). I remember him looking at me that last day with more understanding then most people can muster. I remember every day how gentle a soul he was. I remember every day, how little people understood about him. I remember all that and pray each day that a little of that rubbed off on me.

Brody was just flat out lost. I picture Brody and I can remember how he looked that first day. My goodness what a memorable day it was. No more than a week or so ago, I was standing at the gate, wondering about unicorns, rainbows, and why I have a love for those whom many do not understand; I was looking at Brody. 

I love Brody. I think I fell in love with Brody the minute I placed my hand on him. I didn't want to fall in love with Brody. I was so vulnerable the day I met Brody I might have fallen in love with a chicken with a one leg. However, that day I didn't run into a chicken with one leg; I met Brody. He, quite literally, looked like I felt. I looked at him and I understood, completely, where he was. I looked at him and wanted to cry for where I was. I looked at him and wondered who in the hell was pulling the strings that brought us together, a day after Patch left. What kind of Universe does that? In all honesty, I wasn't pleased. 

As awful as it may sound, I tend to resent whomever is pulling the Universal Strings now and again. 

I do understand Brody. If I cared to be honest, I could admit that I think I understand the Universal Strings that brought us together. I'm not sure I care to be that honest right now.

Rev, perhaps we will close with Rev. Rev's a funny story, of course! There was this lady that rescued this mare. The lady that rescued the mare did the right thing and contacted a rescue. The rescue posted on a social network site asking for help for the mare. All good right? Yep.

I see the posts about the mare. All good right? No.

I have an empty stall. Unfortunately I also have experience with horses that have been neglected/starved. I'm stupid enough to say this aloud (rather type it). 

I end up going to see the mare, whom is in quite capable hands. No need for me to be involved. 

Enter Rev. Gelding, no major issues, sweet as can be, could use a good home. Perhaps a few mild feet issues, probably dental, a few extra groceries... Ummm sweet as can be. Dark, Deep, Almost Black Bay. Gorgeous. Sweet. Rescues are crowded; have I mentioned...empty stall, gorgeous, no major issues, sweet as can be? Rev is the only horse I have brought home sight unseen. I didn't even so much as hesitate. Wonder why?

I kinda know why.

Honestly the fact that I could help the rescue was the biggest piece. Rev was nothing special as far as rescues go. Rev was one of the lucky ones. His owners were having a hard time and they sought out help. When I heard about Rev I was pretty relieved that I had this great opportunity to help without the complications that come with a 'typical' rescue situation. If I am horribly honest I'd probably have to admit that I was more attracted to helping the rescue than I was to Rev.

Funny thing, in Rev, sweetheart that he is, I found ... he understood and I didn't have to explain.

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No fitting title

Sitting here tonight, with the page blank and a million things running through my mind, I decided to spend five minutes on a clever title. A clever title is important; looking for a clever title somewhere in the far corners of my mind where nothing much happens is also a great way to avoid the active parts. So my clever title today is "No fitting title". Impressive I know.

That's a cute opening to my subject matter this evening. Katie, my Impressive bred mare. Now when I say Impressive bred I am not talking adjectives :-)

Actually it involves more than Katie, it involves them all and the tough decisions that come with them. It's the responsibility to do what's right for them even when it's not what you'd wish for you. It's the wrestling that comes with the examination of motive. i.e. Are you doing this because it's right for you? Are you doing this because it's right for them? It's the separation from your own wants in order to see theirs properly. It comes with parenting and lets face it that is precisely what you do when you bring an animal into your home. Yeah, yeah we are their "owners". People call it what they will however the job is the same, constant non-stop care for another being, complete responsibility for their very well being and where animals are concerned their fate. Children have the upper hand finally! Children have a level of control that leaves your hands when they discover they can control their fate in this life, animals are completely dependent. Interesting I hadn't thought of that before.


In any case, it's a heavy responsibility and sometimes it sucks ass. Today I woke knowing Kate and I were going to go show Katie to a local woman whom I have tremendous respect for. It'd be great for Katie, of that there is no doubt. Did I want to do it? No. Did I? Yeah. 


You might wonder why I did it if I didn't want to. I "own" Katie, god knows I have plenty "invested" in Katie. Why in the world would I ever consider giving her away (which I failed to mention was part of it, sorry). 


I'm considering it because Katie would be in an ideal situation. I'm considering it because if I put Katie "on the market" she's going to attract people whom are not suitable for her. That's a lot like setting her up.


I'm considering it because I will not do the "work" that Katie needs to be suitable for those that she attracts. It really has little to do with if I want to do the work or not, I won't. I want to desperately. I can't. That's me, that is not Katie. It's the reality that I am not good enough to give her what she needs to get ready to be suitable. Does that bother me? Fuck yes it does. Does it piss me off that I didn't try harder before with her? Yes it does. Do I think for one second that our relationship, as it stands, under saddle, will ever change? No. Do I blame Katie? God no. Do I blame me? Sure that's obvious however I am becoming more comfortable with the fact that if I wanted to be "good enough" under saddle for a horse like Katie I would be. Truth is, I don't want to work that hard, not right now and perhaps not ever; certainly not soon enough for Katie, and that is the most important part.


I don't think I have ever admitted that. 


Another truth is, I don't think Katie is miserable. Katie is well taken care of, a lady on the ground, polite, lovable, great with the kids fussing over her, and has a herd of boys chasing her tail (literally some days). From a mare's point of view...kinda hard to argue with that.


Another truth is, I'm not independently wealthy and as much as I'd love to let Katie live forever in charge of her little world of handsome geldings...


Another truth is, someone else could love Katie and ride her as well. Katie doesn't object to work, quite the opposite. She reminds me a lot of a child who has spent the last two years in Europe :-) She was great today and my lord I love to see her relax and enjoy what she is doing. She tries so hard, you can see it. 


Another truth is, it's in the figuring. The battles that come to life when you have to decide if you are making the decision based on their needs or your love for them. That's the tough part. That's the part that sucks ass, that's the part that makes me swear and leaves me without a title even now :-)

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Katie, my dilemma, wrapped in shades of Bay

Let's see if I have the courage to tell Katie's story, rather our story. At best, it will make a little sense to someone, somewhere. At worst I will stumble about the page and eventually feel better. It's a blog win-win.

I fell in love with Katie the minute Teresa took the blanket off of her that very first day. I know that Katie is not the most beautiful, fancy, pony out there. To me however, she was the pony little girl dreams are made of. I forgot that I was not a little girl, I forgot that I had just started this horsey journey, I forgot every piece of advice and wisdom my forty some odd year old self had and plumb fell in love.

It wasn't long before I had no choice but to realize I was over-horsed, in love no doubt, over-horsed no real doubt there either. We were a mere six months into our partnership when I faced it and went ahead and put her in training with the intent to find her a better match and purchase another horse whom was a better match for myself. We were in no real hurry. Tex was here with me and we were having a blast. Katie was in fantastic hands, learning new stuff and also having a blast.

I often wonder, if I hadn't wrestled with with my confidence and various voices in my head back then, would Katie and I have eventually worked it out? Often meaning about once a day :-)

In any case, we were all going along just fine until I lost my job. Katie came home, the intent being we would go back to the original plan after mom had a few months to figure out what to do with herself. None of us, back then, had any idea what the future was to bring us. The original plan fell through, I must admit it fell through because mom (me) went in a direction that dissatisfied the other party. I must also admit that I had more than an inclination prior to moving in the direction.

We were still fine. It had been a series of adjustments. Patch left us. His passing still brings a lump to my throat. Texas left us. Katie and Brody went up to Diamond Hill for a bit. Rev came into our lives and eventually Lou came into our lives.

We are still fine however I find myself, once again, wondering what is right for Katie. I know what's right for the boys, I've known what was right for pretty much every horse I have had here on the farm. Katie's well being is the only one I have ever struggled with. It seemingly always comes down to me thinking (believing) that I am not good enough for her. It creates a most uncomfortable experience for us both. Coupled with my recent bout of "not good enough for any of them cause you let Patch die", my riding Katie just results in us frustrating each other. There is a part of me that thinks she knows me better than I care to admit and as a result she misbehaves just enough to keep me on the ground. There is another part of me that wants to threaten to take her cute little ass to the mat on principal alone (so to speak); it's the part of me that knows if I could turn off the voices in my head and relax long enough to break through this, selling Katie would stop being an option.

My mom has been subject to many "Should I sell Katie to someone who is a better rider" conversations. She asked me once, countering my remark about the money spent on Katie's training, "What are you doing with all your training?". My first reaction was "Me? For goodness sake that the problem, I don't have enough!" What she meant of course, was the training and time I had put into my career, which by the way, I was steadfastly not using, happily I might add.

Did Katie really care that she wasn't "working"? I really don't think so anymore. She is the boss of the pasture, she meanders when she wants, runs when she wants, kicks up her heels when she wants, and has three of the best looking geldings in Kitsap County wrestling for her attention. I don't think Katie cares that she isn't working. Truth be told Katie has almost decided that "work" as far as we're concerned is horse crap!

Did I care that Katie had gotten to the edge of "I'm a horse that does nothing, thank you very much."? Yes. Therein lies the dilemma. Katie is smart, Katie has lot of training on her, showing Katie after such a long time without work is unfair to her and anyone that sees her. All that means is that I have to get off my ass, over myself, and do my mare justice. Climbing out of the hole that I have dug with Katie is kinda gonna blow but she deserves it, and if I were honest so do I.

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